Death 'Till Us Part (or some other sappy title idk)
by ArceusPalkia
Summary: Just a small drabble-type thingy uwu Warning! Gory lemons. Read only if you are comfortable with this.


Your name is Jake English, and here you are, severed Dirk head in your hands. His complexion is turning more pale by the moment. He used to be your boyfriend once. But that was in the past. _Way past. _It hurt, to break those ties. It really did. And it didn't help the fact that it ended on moreso of a bitter note. That...you were _not_proud of. As the both of you drifted apart and eventually split, you said less and less to each other. You talked only mainly when it was absolutely necessary to, and that was it. Dirk then began hanging more around Roxy and Jane. This in itself almost made you want to break down and let a steady stream of salty and bittersweet tears free, like a dam's cracks finally giving way, letting all the water's force surge forth. Deep down, you still had feelings for him. And you think he knew it. Maybe he did, too. But you never knew. And now you never would. It hurt, so much. Like a thousand knives being stabbed into your back all at once. But you welcomed it. It wasn't new for you. Hurt is all the same. When you were rejected by so many because of the way you were. Shunned by peers everywhere. None of it matters in the end to you. It's just yet another obstacle you sluggishly drag yourself through or over. Your thoughts drift back to the present events now, however.

You look at Dirk's head, held in both of your hands. One side of his shades, the left, is cracked, revealing a partially-glazed over eye. A pale orange. Once bright with life, but now that flame was diminished. You'd always thought that his eyes were rather pretty. But you'd never said it to him. Jake English was expected to be a rough-and-tough young man. Not attracted to the beauty of one's eyes.

"_You have...pretty eyes, Dirk."_

Those five words, you mutter under your breath. As if he still can hear you, but alas, he can't. A tear slides down your cheek.

Did I mention? You _really like skulls. _You've always thought they were cool. Cool, but creepy. You never knew why; you just went along with it. A dreadful thought pops into your head. Gulping nervously, you gently and slowly pull away Dirk's glasses from his head and set them aside. Both eyes are still open, but you could care less. Your hand gently runs its way down his cold cheek. Taking your index finger, you run it slowly over his cold and now purple-pink lips. If you're going to do what you think you are, you don't have much time before it won't work out so great. Hastily, you set Dirk's head off to the side and fiddle clumsily with your belt buckle.

_Gosh darn thing._

Finally, it comes loose. Thank god. Waiting for much longer would've driven you mad. You slide your pants down to your middle area of your thigh, allowing enough room for your junk to at least be able to come out. The boxers come next. Elastic waistband stretches delicately under your hand as you pull them down, exposing yourself. Glancing at the severed head to your left, you stroke your manhood lightly, imaging how this is going to feel.

Dirk's head is now back in your hands.

_Am I really going to...to...do this...?_

You nod to yourself, and position the tip of your cock right in front of that once-beautiful orange eye on the left. Slowly, but surely, you push it against his eye. It feels cool, so you hurry. You close your eyes as it slips past the eye, and you can here a loud, wet, squishing noise as the eye gives way. Right then and there, you almost pull out of his skull. But you don't _want _**to **stop. This is possibly the most that you have wanted to something in your entire life. But...why were you so damn unsure?

You shrug it off, and keep pushing forward. Blood oozes out, dripping onto your hands and onto your cock. You don't mind. Deciding you've gone far enough, you move back out. More squishing sounds. But who cares? You keep moving back, until you're almost completly out. You push your hips forward, going back in. You repeat this several times to get the feeling for it, and the blood. You get used to it, and are soon thrusting quicker into the eye socket. Blood is now practically covering your entire shaft, but you don't care. It feels just so **_goddamned GOOD. _**The inside of an eyesocket is better feeling than you'd ever imagined. It's tight, and never really widens much at all. Perfect. Just perfect.

You continue moving in and out of Dirk's eyesocket. Grunts and moans pour out of your lips as you reach a climax. Panting, you pull your cock out of his eyesocket. You plant your lips on his, licking the blood droplets from them.

_I love you, Dirk._

Your name is Jake English, and you just skull-fucked your dead ex-boyfriend.


End file.
